


Carrion Dagger

by Hera_Sith



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24752212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hera_Sith/pseuds/Hera_Sith
Summary: Arthur finally comes clean about something that he has kept secret for years.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 314





	Carrion Dagger

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I came up with at 3am rewatching the episode Lancelot. Hopefully someone out there will enjoy it :)

“Do you remember when my father found out Lancelot’s seal of nobility was forged?” Arthur asks from his seat at the Round Table. No one is in the room but he and Merlin, everything a bit hazy around the edges except Arthur, who glows in an almost golden light from the sun’s rays. 

Merlin stares at him for a long moment, his lips twitching upwards in his nervousness as he shuffles from one foot to the other, “Of course.” 

“I told him all Lancelot wanted was to serve,” Arthur continues, finally standing up from his chair. His hand runs against the grain of the table, gaze following the movement as he inches towards Merlin.

Merlin nods, still unsure where Arthur is going with this as he watches the king come towards him, “Right. It’s true, he just wanted to be a knight. And now he is, so problem solved.” 

Arthur huffs an unamused laugh, thumb running back and forth against an inch of slightly sun-warped wood when he stops just a foot away from Merlin. Finally looking up at him, “He asked me how I could trust a man who lied to me.”

Merlin stares back at Arthur, pinned to the spot by his gaze. He opens his mouth, fumbling for something to say, then shuts it with a click at the look Arthur gives him. 

“I thought about that question for a long time after that, trying to wrap my head around it. How could I, the future King of Camelot, trust a simple peasant who lied to me from the moment he met me?” Arthur continues, his voice calm and steady as he looks Merlin in the eye. 

“How--” Merlin begins, but shuts his mouth once again when Arthur holds his hand up. The tension in the room heightens, sweat begins to dot on the back of Merlin’s neck despite it being cool outside. There’s an almost spell-like quality to the way Arthur is commanding his attention; Merlin can’t help but look from his eyes, to that thumb running in circles against the table, to the way his boots point at Merlin’s own, but he knows the king has no magical abilities. No, Arthur doesn’t need magic to put Merlin under his spell, the sorcerer had succumbed to him years ago. Not that it meant Merlin didn’t usually fight back, it was just this moment, this story, the way Arthur moved towards Merlin like he was the only thing worth knowing, that kept him from doing so.

“Don’t interrupt your king,” Arthur says, his voice low in amusement. He clears his throat, leaning in a bit closer to Merlin, “After that, my father wouldn’t listen to Gaius about the griffon being born of magic despite my giving my word. So, first I went to Lancelot to tell him off for lying to me, only for him to confirm what I already thought.”

“Arthur, I already know this part,” Merlin says, his confusion creasing his brow.

Arthur reaches toward Merlin, putting a hand on the back of his neck and making a face at the sweat he feels back there. However, the sweat doesn’t prevent him from running his thumb in the same circles he made on the Round Table. “Listen to me, this is the important part.”

Merlin nods as much as he can with Arthur’s grip on his neck, holding himself completely still out of fear that the not-spell might be broken as soon as he moves. 

“After letting Lancelot go, I went to Geoffrey in that last hour I had to find a spell, anything I could use against the griffon. Lo and behold, I found a secret room of magic items, including an enchanted dagger. I didn’t tell anyone about the room and took the dagger, Merlin. I was going to use magic to cut out the griffon’s heart and bring it back to my father.” 

Merlin’s eyes widen as he glances at the dagger that has sat faithfully on Arthur’s hip for years, fighting against his urge to reach toward it with his own magic to check if what Arthur is saying is true. 

Arthur’s smile is soft and crooked as he releases Merlin’s neck and unsheathes the dagger. With his free hand, he pulls Merlin’s hand up and then places the dagger in his palm. 

Merlin’s hands shake as he looks down at the dagger, Arthur’s voice quiet enough that Merlin has to lean in to hear it, “Since that day, I carried with me this enchanted dagger. I committed treason against the crown everyday I put my weapons belt on. I killed dozens of magical creatures aiming to destroy Camelot whenever you weren’t there beside me, breathing down my neck.”

Merlin’s gaze shoots up, both his jaw and the dagger dropping in his awe of the man standing before him. For it’s not the King of Camelot currently gazing back, no, right here and now it is just Arthur looking at him, pleading with him, trying to make him understand. 

Arthur huffs a laugh as the dagger hits the floor, “It’s made it through the Purge and endless battles, and the magic dagger is going to break because my clumsy, idiot sorcerer dropped it.” 

“Your-- your sorcerer?” By this point, there are tears running down Merlin’s cheeks, though he can barely feel them as the affirmation of what he both sought and feared was coming tumbles out of Arthur’s mouth. “We lied to each other.”

Arthur nods, reaching up to wipe Merlin’s tears. “We lied to each other,” he confirms. “And I was the first one to realize it. So no more calling me the clotpole in this relationship, okay?” 

Merlin cries even harder at that, reaching for handfuls of Arthur’s tunic and gripping them with all his might. “You--you’ll just be a prat from now on. King Prat has a nice ring to it.” 

Arthur laughs unabashedly, leaning his forehead against Merlin’s, “I think we’ve been friends for long enough, saved each others’ lives enough times, that you can call me just Prat. But only in private.” 

“I prefer just Arthur,” Merlin finally says once he gets the crying under control, though now his smile is wide enough he worries it might crack his face in two. 

“Good, I was really compromising right then. Anyway, aren’t you going to ask me why?” 

“Why?” Merlin breathes out, looking through his lashes at Arthur. 

“Excellent question,” Arthur winks at Merlin. “After I found out about your magic, I realized two things. First, that you didn’t want to tell me, and I had to be okay with that until the time came. And second, that I had to have some way to protect myself from magical threats when you weren’t there to make special enchantments for Lancelot.” 

“When exactly did you find out?” Merlin asks, then realizes he’s yet to explain himself. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you. That first year, it’s all I wanted, all I hoped for. But then I realized the position I would put you in with your father, and I--I couldn’t do it, Arthur. I couldn’t force you to choose because I knew it wasn’t going to be me you chose and that’s okay because Uther was your father but it would’ve broken me utterly to have to leave you and not just because of the whole prophecy thing and I know it would’ve been leaving because you’re a good man and--”

Arthur barely moves forward to slot their mouths together, gently, just to stop the rambling, though the feeling rumbles through Merlin’s chest as if Kilgarrah were roaring at him. 

“I know. Now, I showed you mine, you show me yours,” Arthur gestures to the almost forgotten dagger, somehow sitting on the table now despite Merlin having dropped it. 

Stunned, Merlin just stares at the man, his King, his other side of the same coin, “You did not just kiss me and then say that. Here I thought you were a romantic with all the flowers and the picnics and--”

Arthur kisses Merlin again, this time more firmly, before pulling away once more. Merlin unthinkingly leans forward to chase him, though Arthur gently pushes him back. “Magic, Merlin. I want you to show me your magic.”

“Oh, right, of course. Magic. Because I’m a sorcerer… your sorcerer,” Merlin stammers, already unclenching a fist so he can hold up a closed fist. He whispers to it, then opens it slowly to reveal a red flower blooming from the center of his palm, his eyes flashing golden for a long moment before returning to their natural blue. 

Arthur smiles slowly, looking from the flower to Merlin like he was just given the best Yule gift he could have possibly asked for. “And you say I’m the romantic. You’re such a girl, Merlin.” 

“I take it back, I prefer just Prat,” Merlin snarks, reaching up to place the flower behind Arthur’s ear. 

Arthur pulls him forward, chest to chest, running a hand over both Merlin’s cheekbones, “I trust you, Merlin. Even if you didn’t trust me enough until the end, I trusted you with my life and that of my entire Kingdom. I loved--”

Merlin sits up in his twin-sized bed, having completely soaked through his clothes with sweat, alone in the too-quiet room in an age where magic has been all but forgotten. 

He turns on the reading lamp on his side table, then does a double-take as he sees both the red flower from his dreams and the enchanted dagger Arthur carried which Merlin never knew about until after his death. 

It had all seemed so real, but that scene had never played out in real life. Arthur never revealed his secret dagger and Merlin never revealed his magic until the very end of the Once and Future King’s life. They had never gotten together despite several opportunities during Gwen’s banishment--instead, Merlin had pushed them back together, sacrificing his own happiness for that of his friends. Then they had drowned in their lies to each other. 

Realizing the tears of his dreams were real and silently lamenting there was no Arthur to wipe them away, Merlin heads out onto his balcony, looking out at the Lake of Avalon and letting them flow freely down his cheeks. 

When he finally runs out of tears to cry, Merlin turns to go back inside, only to find the dagger on the ground and the flower nowhere to be found.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who made it through the whole thing--please feel free to tell me what you thought!


End file.
